October 21st ,2002
It had been 3 years 1 month , and 26 days since the death of my best friend Aster. It was a rough few years for me. Living on the streets with minimal amounts of food. Maybe on a good day a kind old man or lady would hand me their leftovers if not I starved.
Every single second of the day I wondered what if I looked for him first? Would he still be here?Would have I killed those people?Would I be happy?
-•-
Y/n's POV2:58pm
I woke up to the sound of car engines running on the road."Jeez how late is it?" I muttered to my self while rubbing my eyes
I looked around in the ally way that I claimed as my new home for the next few days. I noticed a old man sitting on a chair reading.
"Um..hello? Do you need anything sir?" I asked but all he did was look down into his book until he abruptly shut his book with a loud bang
"Hello little one I've been keeping tabs on you ever since that day you murdered those people. " He said looking intently at me
I looked at him questioningly. Is he here to arrest me? I could easily out run him if so. I thought
"Don't worry you aren't in any trouble. Unless you decline the offer I give you."
"Well what's the offer?"I asked with a hint of excitement in my eyes
"For you to come and live with me and 7 children your age.You will get your own room, food, clean clothes, and siblings. All in return for you to train with the others and go on missions." He said with a straight face
I thought about it. It wasn't a bad offer. I mean yeah what could be the worst that would happen?
"Yes, I accept you offer. in return of one thing. I get to have a music player. Deal?"
He stood up and shook my hand
"Deal."-•-
March 24th ,201912:38pm
I was in the kitchen making a snack when I got a call from Diego
"Hello?""Hey whats up, Diego? You need me to go help you with your vigilante shit? I have a day off."I said while I picked up a piece of strawberry with my fork
"No, dads dead."
The sound of a clattering fork on a plate was heard throughout the call.
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𝗔𝗹𝗲𝘅𝗶𝘁𝗵𝘆𝗺𝗶𝗮
Fanfiction𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗫𝗜𝗧𝗛𝗬𝗠𝗜𝗔 /𝗲,𝗹𝗲𝗸𝘀𝗲'𝗧𝗛𝗶̄𝗺𝗲̄𝗲/ 𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗻 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗴𝗻𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗯𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲'𝘀 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀. 𝟭 𝟮 𝟯 𝘃𝗶𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗿/𝘃𝗮𝗻𝘆𝗮𝘅𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 �...